Three strangely dressed men with multiple earrings, approached Clara Grace and her baby brother in their shopping cart on the night of Sunday, August the twenty-sixth.
“Well, hello,” the group’s spokesman announced enthusiastically.
“Well, hello,” Clara Grace responded in the same exuberant manner.
The man was clearly taken aback at the tiny two-year-old’s vocal capabilities. “That was a very distinct hello,” he told her
“Yes, that was a stinky hello.” Clara Grace responded conversationally and then proceeded to pick her nose.
“Always say hello to new people you meet just like that,” the man with earrings admonished her gravely.
Clara Grace’s daddy interjected, “Yeah, but maybe she could do it without her finger in her nostril.”
The oddly dressed man shook his head and responded quizzically, “Oh no, I pick my nose all the time.”
Sunday, September 02, 2007
Defining Precious
Clara Grace had difficulty drifting off to sleep on the night of Tuesday, August the twenty-first. As her daddy left the room after asking her to close her eyes for the second time, he commented, “You’re precious.”
Clara Grace agreed, “I am precious. What’s precious, Daddy.”
Her daddy answered, “Precious means, ‘I love you. You mean a lot to me.’”
Clara Grace replied, “No, precious means, ‘I love you, but go to sleep.’”
Clara Grace agreed, “I am precious. What’s precious, Daddy.”
Her daddy answered, “Precious means, ‘I love you. You mean a lot to me.’”
Clara Grace replied, “No, precious means, ‘I love you, but go to sleep.’”
Clown fish and Angel Fish by Clara Grace; August 19, 2007
“I want my fire,” Clara Grace announced.
“I’ll get you a pacifier for bed if you tell me a story first,” her daddy replied.
“OK, I’ll tell you a story,” she said. “Once upon a time there was an angel fish and…what?”
“Um, a clown fish,” her daddy supplied.
Clara Grace nodded and then continued, “OK, clown fish. And clown fish heard a noise, and…what was it?”
“Boommm….Boommmm” her daddy answered in a low, quiet voice.
Clara Grace glanced up. Momentarily identifying with Clown fish’s dread. “It was thunder! Clown fish hide in the bushes.”
“Then what did clown fish do?” her daddy prompted curiously.
Clara Grace responded, ”Clown fish cried and cried.”
“Who made clown fish feel better?” her daddy asked.
“Angel fish.” Clara Grace replied. Naturally, this answer came as a bit of a surprise seeing as how angel fish have so often played the role of thunder in previous stories, But there could be no mistake to the character’s change in status as Clara Grace forged ahead with her tale, “Angel fish said, ‘Be quiet’.”
After a dramatic pause, her daddy insisted, “Then what happened?”
Clara Grace answered sadly, “The thunder hurt clown fish.”
“The thunder hurt clown fish!?” Daddy repeated. “How did the thunder hurt clown fish?”
“The thunder just hurt clown fish,” Clara said simply. “Angel fish said, ‘You want Tylenol?’ Clown fish said, ‘I don’t want Tylenol.’ Angel fish said, ‘You’re being silly. Do you want Tylenol?’ Clown fish said, ‘I want Tylenol.’ The end.”
“I’ll get you a pacifier for bed if you tell me a story first,” her daddy replied.
“OK, I’ll tell you a story,” she said. “Once upon a time there was an angel fish and…what?”
“Um, a clown fish,” her daddy supplied.
Clara Grace nodded and then continued, “OK, clown fish. And clown fish heard a noise, and…what was it?”
“Boommm….Boommmm” her daddy answered in a low, quiet voice.
Clara Grace glanced up. Momentarily identifying with Clown fish’s dread. “It was thunder! Clown fish hide in the bushes.”
“Then what did clown fish do?” her daddy prompted curiously.
Clara Grace responded, ”Clown fish cried and cried.”
“Who made clown fish feel better?” her daddy asked.
“Angel fish.” Clara Grace replied. Naturally, this answer came as a bit of a surprise seeing as how angel fish have so often played the role of thunder in previous stories, But there could be no mistake to the character’s change in status as Clara Grace forged ahead with her tale, “Angel fish said, ‘Be quiet’.”
After a dramatic pause, her daddy insisted, “Then what happened?”
Clara Grace answered sadly, “The thunder hurt clown fish.”
“The thunder hurt clown fish!?” Daddy repeated. “How did the thunder hurt clown fish?”
“The thunder just hurt clown fish,” Clara said simply. “Angel fish said, ‘You want Tylenol?’ Clown fish said, ‘I don’t want Tylenol.’ Angel fish said, ‘You’re being silly. Do you want Tylenol?’ Clown fish said, ‘I want Tylenol.’ The end.”
Just Like Mommy
After Clara Grace’s her daddy buckled her into the car seat for a run to the grocery store on Saturday, July the twenty-eigth, she filled the ride to the supormarket with polite and engaging chatter. Her daddy complimented her, “You’re smart,”
“I am smart,” Clara Grace agreed.
“You’re pretty too,” her daddy remarked.
“I’m so pretty,” Clara Grace confirmed.
“And you’re funny,” her daddy admired.
Clara Grace laughed and answered, “Yes, I’m very funny.
“You’re also nice, you know,” her daddy concluded.
“Yes I am,” his daughter acknowledged matter-of-factly. “I’m just like mommy.”
Her daddy smiled then inquired, “You mean you’re like mommy because she’s smart and pretty and funny and nice?”
“Yes she is,” Clara Grace replied.
“So, is your brother, Everett, like Daddy?” he probed further.
“No,” the little girl answered thoughtfully. “Everett is like Everett, Daddy is like Daddy, but I am just like Mommy.”
“I am smart,” Clara Grace agreed.
“You’re pretty too,” her daddy remarked.
“I’m so pretty,” Clara Grace confirmed.
“And you’re funny,” her daddy admired.
Clara Grace laughed and answered, “Yes, I’m very funny.
“You’re also nice, you know,” her daddy concluded.
“Yes I am,” his daughter acknowledged matter-of-factly. “I’m just like mommy.”
Her daddy smiled then inquired, “You mean you’re like mommy because she’s smart and pretty and funny and nice?”
“Yes she is,” Clara Grace replied.
“So, is your brother, Everett, like Daddy?” he probed further.
“No,” the little girl answered thoughtfully. “Everett is like Everett, Daddy is like Daddy, but I am just like Mommy.”
Problem and Solution
On Saturday, July the twenty-eighth, Clara Grace asked for three animal crackers from her car seat. Not long after, she requested three more. About that same time, her baby brother, Everett, started crying in his car seat.
Clara Grace’s daddy asked her, “Do you think Everett wants a cracker?”
Clara Grace answered confidently, “No he doesn’t want an animal cracker. Stop crying Everett.”
Curiously, her daddy angled his rear view mirror and caught sight of his little girl tossing bits of dismembered animals into Everett’s car seat.
Clara Grace glanced at her daddy’s eyes trained on her in the mirror and employed a hasty change of tactics. She reached out and patted her brother’s seat while cooing consciously, “Oh, Everett, it’s okay. Don’t cry. It’s all right.” Once she felt a sufficient show had been made, she requested, “Turn off the mirror now, Daddy.”
Clara Grace’s daddy asked her, “Do you think Everett wants a cracker?”
Clara Grace answered confidently, “No he doesn’t want an animal cracker. Stop crying Everett.”
Curiously, her daddy angled his rear view mirror and caught sight of his little girl tossing bits of dismembered animals into Everett’s car seat.
Clara Grace glanced at her daddy’s eyes trained on her in the mirror and employed a hasty change of tactics. She reached out and patted her brother’s seat while cooing consciously, “Oh, Everett, it’s okay. Don’t cry. It’s all right.” Once she felt a sufficient show had been made, she requested, “Turn off the mirror now, Daddy.”
Clara Grace’s daddy took her to visit the kayak store on Friday, July the twentieth. After staring longingly at the boats of various shapes and colors her daddy asked the store’s owner to put him on the mailing list in order to receive e-mails whenever sales came around.
Clara Grace announced, “I want e-mails.”
Her daddy answered, "You can read mine.”
Clearly unsatisfied, Clara Grace decided to try her luck with the store owner instead. And here, Clara Grace told her very first fib, “Write me, I’m three.”
As she walked out of the store hand in hand with her daddy, Clara Grace remarked, “I have to go check my e-mail.”
Clara Grace announced, “I want e-mails.”
Her daddy answered, "You can read mine.”
Clearly unsatisfied, Clara Grace decided to try her luck with the store owner instead. And here, Clara Grace told her very first fib, “Write me, I’m three.”
As she walked out of the store hand in hand with her daddy, Clara Grace remarked, “I have to go check my e-mail.”
Oh, Grow Up
Clara Grace’s Aunt Amy amused herself by pestering her niece on the afternoon of Wednesday, July the eleventh. Aunt Amy teased the little girl without mercy while the two kept occupied in the waiting room at the doctor’s office. In an extreme show of courtesy for a two-year-old, Clara Grace endured as long as she could then suggested in veiled frustration, “Get a toy, Amy.”
Cococokjin
On the evening of Friday, July the sixth, Clara Grace’s mommy asked the family, “What do you want me to make for dinner?”
Clara Grace replied without a second’s thought, “Cococokjin.”
Her mommy hesitated then inquired, “How do you make that?”
Clara Grace explained patiently, “With a stove.”
Clara Grace replied without a second’s thought, “Cococokjin.”
Her mommy hesitated then inquired, “How do you make that?”
Clara Grace explained patiently, “With a stove.”
Pay Attention
Thursday, June the twenty-eighth, Clara Grace announced proudly, “Daddy, I have something for you.” Her daddy held out his hand and Clara Grace placed an imaginary something into his palm. Not quite sure what to do with the “something,” her daddy popped it into his mouth and chewed. “No!” Clara Grace responded with evident shock and disappointment. “You’re not supposed to eat it.”
“Ooops,” her daddy said and spit the something back into his hand.
“Oh, you’ve ruined it,” Clara Grace declared in dismay. Then, after a momentary reluctance, the little girl relented and pinched another imaginary bit from the air. “Here’s a new something.”
“Ooops,” her daddy said and spit the something back into his hand.
“Oh, you’ve ruined it,” Clara Grace declared in dismay. Then, after a momentary reluctance, the little girl relented and pinched another imaginary bit from the air. “Here’s a new something.”
A Good Deal
On Wednesday, June the twenty-eighth, during a vacation to visit her grandparents in Michigan, Clara Grace munched happily on a decorated cookie from her Nanna,. Her grandpa asked if she wanted any help eating the cookie. Clara Grace responded that she had the situation under control and then asked for a drink of milk. Her grandpa seized the moment of weakness and offered a barter, “A drink will cost you a bite of that cookie.” Clara Grace seemed to have no problem with this arrangement. She accepted the cup of milk and then obligingly took a bite.
Neglected
Clara Grace’s daddy whisked her away on an early morning shopping trip Friday, June the thirtieth. Daddy made the quick decision to take her to the store in her pajamas in his haste to get her out the door. He was considerately allowing her mommy a little more sleep after a long night with teething baby Everett. Clara Grace rode quietly in the shopping cart down the isles of food, housewares, and toys, but when the buggy entered the clothing department, she announced in a loud voice, “Daddy, buy me some clothes. I’m in my pajamas. You need to pay for some clothes for me.”
A New Twist on an Old Tale
Clara Grace’s baby brother wailed in his high chair on the morning of Friday, June the twenty-second while his mommy scrambled to throw breakfast together. Clara Grace stood near the inconsolable boy and recited an appropriate line from a favorite bedtime story to cheer him up, “Little pig, little pig, let me out.”
After a moment, Clara Grace realized she had made a joke and called into the kitchen, “Mommy, that was funny. I said, Little pig, little pig let me out.”
After a moment, Clara Grace realized she had made a joke and called into the kitchen, “Mommy, that was funny. I said, Little pig, little pig let me out.”
Hey!
After a visit to the zoo on Saturday, June the sixteenth, Clara Grace announced, “I pet a sheep.
Her mommy answered, “Yes you did. That was a baby sheep which is called a lamb.”
Clara Grace remarked, “I like lambs. Do you like lambs Mommy?”
Her mommy responded, “Yes, I do like lambs.”
Clara Grace inquired, “Do you like lambs, Daddy?”
Her daddy answered, “Yes I do like lambs, especially with a nice mint jelly.”
Clara Grace’s mommy punched him in the shoulder for his callous and insensitive response.
“No mommy!” Clara Grace intervened.
“That’s right, Clara Grace, you tell her,” daddy cheered.
“I want to get him,” Clara Grace explained.
Her mommy answered, “Yes you did. That was a baby sheep which is called a lamb.”
Clara Grace remarked, “I like lambs. Do you like lambs Mommy?”
Her mommy responded, “Yes, I do like lambs.”
Clara Grace inquired, “Do you like lambs, Daddy?”
Her daddy answered, “Yes I do like lambs, especially with a nice mint jelly.”
Clara Grace’s mommy punched him in the shoulder for his callous and insensitive response.
“No mommy!” Clara Grace intervened.
“That’s right, Clara Grace, you tell her,” daddy cheered.
“I want to get him,” Clara Grace explained.
It's Hard to Keep Up
While breakfast was being served on the morning of Saturday, June the sixteenth, Clara Grace asked her mommy for a white top on her sippy cup to match her white milk. “We don’t have any white lids,” her mommy replied, “but you have white pajamas to match your white milk right?”
Next, Clara Grace requested a white napkin. Her daddy smiled and asked her, “Do you want a white napkin because you spilled your white milk or your white yogurt on your white pajamas?”
Clara Grace responded matter-of-factly, “No, it’s because napkins are white.”
Next, Clara Grace requested a white napkin. Her daddy smiled and asked her, “Do you want a white napkin because you spilled your white milk or your white yogurt on your white pajamas?”
Clara Grace responded matter-of-factly, “No, it’s because napkins are white.”
7 Letters and a Star
Clara Grace dangled from the handle of a WAL*MART shopping cart during an afternoon trip to the store on Friday, June the fifteenth,. From this vantage point, she was presented with an excellent view of the store’s printed name. After a moment, she announced proudly, “Seven letters and a star.”
Another Story by Clara Grace
Sunday, April the thirtieth, Clara Grace’s daddy tucked her into bed and told a story. He began with the time-honored introduction “Once upon a time, there was an…”
“Alligator,” the little girl interjected.
“Okay,” her daddy obliged, “there was an alligator named--”
“Clara Grace,” his daughter supplied.
“Okay,” her daddy continued, “and Clara Grace the alligator like to swim down the river and…”
“Bite!” Clara Grace interrupted decidedly.
“Hmm,” her daddy went on a little unsure as to where the story was headed. “Okay, so, Clara Grace the alligator like to bite—“
“Angelfish,” Clara Grace finished quickly looking up at her arch nemesis on the wall.
“Angelfish and flies,” she added as she remember the pesky insects which had only recently begun to pester her outdoors.
“Does Clara Grace like to bite turtle or stingray??” her daddy asked in clarification.
“No,” the little girl answered definitely, “just angelfish and flies.”
“Alligator,” the little girl interjected.
“Okay,” her daddy obliged, “there was an alligator named--”
“Clara Grace,” his daughter supplied.
“Okay,” her daddy continued, “and Clara Grace the alligator like to swim down the river and…”
“Bite!” Clara Grace interrupted decidedly.
“Hmm,” her daddy went on a little unsure as to where the story was headed. “Okay, so, Clara Grace the alligator like to bite—“
“Angelfish,” Clara Grace finished quickly looking up at her arch nemesis on the wall.
“Angelfish and flies,” she added as she remember the pesky insects which had only recently begun to pester her outdoors.
“Does Clara Grace like to bite turtle or stingray??” her daddy asked in clarification.
“No,” the little girl answered definitely, “just angelfish and flies.”
Bad Breath
Clara Grace developed a severe case of pink eye on the night of Friday, April the twenty-first. The little girl began showing symptoms after any doctor’s office was closed, and awoke in the middle of the night with painfully swollen eyes. So, while her mommy remained at home with baby Everett, Clara Grace and her daddy made a midnight run to the hospital. To keep his daughter occupied in the waiting room, Clara Grace’s daddy began to tell her a rambling story. Not far into the tale however, the little girl pulled away from her daddy’s face and said, “Daddy stop talking. Daddy’s talking goes in my nose.”
“Sorry if I didn’t take time to brush my teeth before trucking you to the emergency room,” her daddy replied wryly and then put his hands behind his head and leaned back to rest.
Clara Grace squeezed toward the opposite side of her chair and instructed, “Daddy put arms down. Daddy’s arms go in my nose.”
“Sorry if I didn’t take time to brush my teeth before trucking you to the emergency room,” her daddy replied wryly and then put his hands behind his head and leaned back to rest.
Clara Grace squeezed toward the opposite side of her chair and instructed, “Daddy put arms down. Daddy’s arms go in my nose.”
Scientific Explanation
Clara Grace’s daddy carried his daughter to the car before sunrise Monday, April the seventeenth. The sleepy toddler lifted her head from her daddy’s chest in consternation at the sound of his beating heart and commented, “Daddy ate a drum.”
Blameless
Clara Grace and her mommy walked down the road on a sunny April afternoon. “Ooops, my bad,” Clara Grace’s mommy apologized as her shoe snagged the back of her daughter’s sandal.
Clara Grace replied disapprovingly, “No mommy, that was your shoe.”
Clara Grace replied disapprovingly, “No mommy, that was your shoe.”
Blame
Clara Grace bounced her rubber ball a bit too enthusiastically on the afternoon of Friday, April the thirteenth. When the ball rebounded onto the glass pains of the French doors, her mommy called, “Clara Grace, I told you not to bounce that ball so hard.”
The little girl answered in complete candor, “Mommy, floor did it.”
The little girl answered in complete candor, “Mommy, floor did it.”
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